


lost boy

by heavydiirtysoul



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Domestic Violence, Heavy Angst, Josh and Tyler's child goes missing, M/M, Mild Smut, So i hope you do too, get ready for The Pain, it's really different from what i usually write but idk i liked it a lot??, joshler - Freeform, this is liek super angsty so stay safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavydiirtysoul/pseuds/heavydiirtysoul
Summary: There's a ransom demand, a poisonous letter on the kitchen table. He's never been more angry in his whole life. All of this is Josh's fault.





	

Neither of them dares to think the unthinkable when Caleb doesn't come home from school that afternoon.

„He's probably just at the library. He has this science project to work on, remember?“

Josh's voice sounds calm, but it's trembling just the slightest bit.

„You're probably right. I'm still gonna try and call him again.“

There's too many 'probably's involved, and Caleb doesn't pick up.

Josh forces down his cup of coffee, slams the newspaper down on the kitchen table. 

„I'm gonna drive to the school now. You stay here in case he comes home.“

The clock is ticking very loudly, and the engine starting in the driveway makes Tyler jump.

He'll be home. He has to be. He always comes home.

 

Josh storms into the house two hours later, his hair is looking disheveled, his clothes are looking disheveled, his eyes are very wild. Tyler's heart sinks.

„I'm calling the police“, Josh announces, angry fingers punching the screen of his phone.

 

The police officer tries to calm them down, but he fails. Parents can't keep calm when their child is missing.

„In most cases, they are with a relative or a close friend. We need you to give us the adresses and phone numbers of every person you think he could be with.“

Tyler shakes his head, makes a noise of disbelief. As if he'd done anything else except call every single contact in his phone to ask about his son.

He gives out the numbers nonetheless.

Josh is sitting across from him at the kitchen table, very calm, very collected. 

It makes Tyler angry.

 

The police finds Caleb's bike two days later. Tyler cries, Josh holds him. Hands are ghosting over the familiar frame of the bike, shaking. It had been a gift for his thirteenth birthday. Josh is very calm, very collected.

Tyler is still so, so angry.

He keeps quiet.

 

It's raining, and Tyler is sitting by the window, staring outside. He wonders if Caleb is dead. He probably is.

He keeps quiet, and he's still so, so angry.

Josh brings him a cup of coffee, his hands are trembling again. He spills a bit on the carpet, sets down the cup, grabs a towel to clean up the mess. He scrubs, scrubs, scrubs, angry, and there's new stains everywhere, tears, icy cold tears, and before he knows it, he's collapsed on the floor, shaking, crying, fists punching against the rough fabric, screaming.

Tyler keeps staring out of the window. 

He's probably dead.

 

They are having breakfast in silence. 

They have stopped talking two days ago, after Josh has asked Tyler if he's doing okay. Tyler had slapped him, hard and stinging across Josh's cheek, and they haven't talked since. 

Josh's face still hurts. He doesn't know if it's physical or not, but he doesn't care.

 

Cutlery is rattling in the sink. Josh is doing the dishes.

Tyler's hands are on his waist, pushing him, bending him over the surface, and Josh's hands slip into the water, cutting his index finger open on one of the knives in there.

He barks out in pain, growls, Tyler is tearing on his shirt, trying to rip his belt open, Josh slaps him away with blood on his hands.

„Don't touch me.“

 

The night is darker than before. They don't switch the lights on anymore.

It's been eight days.

Tyler clings to him on the couch, cries, sobs, shakes, and Josh holds him. He's numb, it doesn't hurt anymore. His bandaged finger draws patterns on Tyler's shoulders.

They kiss, long, desperate, tongues on skin, fast and rough thrusts forcing his body into the seating of the couch, and he can feel the stinging burn of tears in his eyes as Tyler takes out his anger on him.

„He's dead“, Tyler says afterwards, and Josh would shake his head if he wasn't so, so tired. 

He hasn't eaten since yesterday.

 

It's been ten days. 

The police comes in to let them know they have a lead. Tyler nods, Josh nods, they don't believe the officer. Hope is dangerous.

 

There's a weapon in Tyler's hand, and Josh is hunched up in the corner, crying, and Tyler wields the gun around. Josh thinks he might die.

„I'm gonna find those bastards! I'm gonna kill them. I'm gonna kill them, do you hear me?!“

Tyler's eyes are black, wide, there's small beads of sweat on his forehead, and the gun never stops moving. Pointed on Josh, pointed on himself, a small drop of spit on its barrel.

Josh hopes he might die.

He doesn't die.

 

Tyler's feet leave cold imprints on the hardwood floor as he sneaks out of the bedroom to join Josh on the couch. They haven't been sleeping in the same bed since Josh cut his finger open. It's healed by now.

It feels very wrong, very empty when Tyler kisses him. Josh is grossed out, but he keeps kissing. They shouldn't be doing this.

Neither of them says a word as they collapse into cum and sweat on the couch, panting, and Josh feels like crying or puking or hitting Tyler. They shouldn't be doing this.

„I love you“, says Tyler.

„I love you too“, says Josh.

 

The news haven't mentioned Caleb in two days. Tyler wonders if they know more than he does. 

He visits the copy shop, makes thousands of copies. 'Missing', they say, 'have you seen our son?'. He plasters them all over town, accompanied by a flask of burning distraction that clouds his mind and lets him forget. He doesn't come home until late that night. He's drunk, heaving, doesn't bother to stay quiet. Josh is asleep on the couch. Tyler wants to punch him, or kiss him, he doesn't know.

„I hate you“, Tyler says.

Josh snores.

 

„If you didn't work for the government, none of this would've happened!“ 

Tyler's voice is very rough, dripping with venom. It doesn't sound like him.

There's a ransom demand, a poisonous letter on the kitchen table. 

He's never been more angry in his whole life. All of this is Josh's fault.

„All of this is your fault!“, he screams, and then he launches into Josh's arms, hands around his throat, and he doesn't know if he wants to punch Josh or fuck him, or maybe both. Maybe both.

Josh is crying, hiding his face in his hands, and Tyler tears them away.

„Look at me. Look at me! Say it! It's your fault!“

„It's my fault“, Josh chokes out, and all the air is punched out of Tyler's lungs with the incredible clarity of what he's doing. What is he doing?

„What am I doing?“, he breathes, face red, tears spilled everywhere, hands still around Josh's throat, and Josh thinks he deserves this. 

Tyler lets go. Josh sinks to the floor, back against the wall, and he's empty. 

 

„We don't know why it took the kidnappers so long to tell us their conditions.“ 

The police officer looks uncomfortable. Tyler and Josh are sitting on the couch, Josh's arm around Tyler's shoulder, and they're staring while the officer talks.

Josh cashes out every dollar he can from the bank, and they wait.

 

He cries himself to sleep that night, alone on the couch. He can hear Tyler sob in the bedroom, and he's so far away.

 

It's the day of the drop. '4pm', the letter said, and to leave the small suitcase with the money in a park close to Caleb's school. 

Josh is the one to take the money there, and he's scared out of his mind, doesn't know if the kidnappers will keep their word, if he'll have his son back by the time the sunset comes rolling around.

Tyler knows he's scared, holds him close, kisses his tears away, tells him it's going to be alright, we'll have him back, he will be back, shh, I love you. I love you, and I'm so sorry.

Josh believes him. He's sorry too.

 

The call comes around 7pm.

Tyler doesn't think he's ever driven that fast, and Josh next to him is panting, pushing him, fueling him to go faster, and they almost crash their car against the wall of the police office's parking lot.

„Caleb!“, he's yelling, Josh is yelling, and Caleb is so small, so fragile, crying and dirty, and their arms are around him, and they're crying.

He's alive.

We're alive.

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry... i really am
> 
> prompt me @spookykittyjosh on tumblr!!


End file.
